Palm to Palm
by divine-serenityJenevieve
Summary: John McBain wants nothing more than to get up out of the hospital bed that has become his prison, but in his determination he has started to alienate the woman he loves. Can Michael and Natalie get through to him before he says something he doesn’t mean


_**Palm to Palm**_

By Jenevieve

**Summary: **John McBain wants nothing more than to get up out of the hospital bed that has become his prison, but in his determination he has started to alienate the woman he loves. Can Michael and Natalie get through to him before he says something he doesn't mean and will certainly regret?

**Rating:** PG for sappy fluff and a little angst

**Disclaimer:** I sadly do not own any of the characters. They are all the wonderful creations of Agnes Nixon and the writers of _One Life to Live_, and I am only taking advantage of my love of the show to play with them for a little while.

**Spoilers:** The story was written before Christmas and follows the basic current storyline of "One Life to Live" at the time, skipping ahead to the time following more of John's skin grafts.

**A/N: **So I was thinking about the last few episodes of OLTL and how John has run the gamut on emotions lately, but particularly his hints of wanting to kiss and touch Natalie. For some reason that made me think of a few of my favorite lines from 'Romeo and Juliet', hence the title and the inspiration for this fic. Lyrics used in this fan fiction are from "Saints and Angels" by Sara Evans. Lines in italics are taken directly from episode dialogue.

_We're only human baby_

_We walk on broken ground._

_We lose our way._

_We come unwound._

_'Cause when we're torn apart,_

_Shattered and scarred_

_Love has the grace to save us._

_We're just two tarnished hearts._

_But in each other's arms._

_We become saints and angels._

-----

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, feeling the air fill her lungs up and then out. Again and again she silently repeated her soft breathing mantra until she was sure she could open her eyes without crying. Slowly she let her lids lift, let the world come into focus.

The hospital chapel was small. Three rows of red candles stood in a neat line before her; some lit by persons unknown, some awaiting the light, the hope of a silent prayer to burn away up to heaven. Rings of deep green garland and twisting strands of red and gold ribbons had been strung about, and a small Christmas Tree stood lit with white lights and delicate looking ornaments in the corner behind her. The soft candle light that filled the room seemed to spotlight on the plain wooden crucifix the hung front and center before her. She let her eyes move slowly over the wooden form, its surface seemed to pulsate with an internal light and she found herself entranced by it. Maybe it was the time of year or the fact she was in a hospital where the man she loved was undergoing surgery after surgery. She trusted the doctors, she really did, but she couldn't help but worry that every time they wheeled him out it would be the last time she'd see him. She'd already faced that abyss and the idea of facing it again terrified her beyond words. But John didn't seem to get it, didn't seem to care that it tore her up inside every time she left his side, every time he was taken away and she couldn't follow. Again she heard his angry words reverberate through her mind.

"_If you really cared about me you wouldn't try and stop me!"_

He wanted closure. He wanted vengeance. But above all she knew he wanted out of his hospital bed. No one likes to be cooped up or told what to do, least of all John McBain. She knew he was frustrated, angry, annoyed with himself, with the condition of his own body and the limitations that came with it, but did he have to take it all out on her?

She closed her eyes again and bowed her head, whispering a silent prayer that he'd come out of this latest surgery, even if it meant more scathing words, more rage. She just wanted what was best for him and she had tried to stand her ground but the more he raged the more she felt her resolve slipping. She could be as stubborn as him, as bull-headed, but since she found him after thinking he was dead, things in general seemed to have taken on new meaning. In the end she knew he'd get his way with her. She didn't have the strength to fight him. She was too exhausted, to emotionally worn down, and she loved him more than anything in the world. So she'd given in, agreed to what he wanted, agreed to help bully the doctors into speeding up his skin grafts, and all the while she secretly battled a terror that threatened to tear her heart out. If anything happened to him. If he died. No matter how many times she reminded herself that this was what he wanted she knew if something went wrong she'd blame herself for the rest of her life.

"_If you really cared about me you wouldn't try and stop me!"_

As if on cue a fresh wave of emotion broke over her and the tears began to fall again.

"Natalie?"

The voice startled her and she sucked in a sharp breath desperately trying to pull herself together. "Yeah, Michael?" She finally replied, her voice strong and steady.

"John's out of surgery and in recovery now. We'll be able to see him shortly. I just thought you'd want to know." Michael stood in the doorway watching her seated form, hunched before a row of brightly lit candles.

"Thanks," she replied focusing solely on keeping her voice steady. "I'll be out in a few minutes." Bowing her head she held her breath straining to listen for the door to shut behind him.

"Hey kid, you ok?" To her surprise and embarrassment, Natalie found Michael McBain sliding into the seat beside her.

"I'm fine, Michael, really," she replied swallowing hard and wiping at the tears on her cheeks.

"So you're just sitting her alone crying because you're fine?" He pressed.

"I wasn't crying!" She snapped back weakly. "Ok maybe a little, but it's nothing, I'm just tired that's all."

"Haven't slept much?"

"Not really," she admitted, wringing her hands in her lap.

"A lot has happened," Michael added watching her face carefully.

"Yeah," she nodded.

"And my brother can be a real ass."

"Yeah," she nodded before suddenly realizing what he said, "I mean no."

"Yeah, he can. He can be a real insensitive SOB, especially after he promised you he changed." Michael smiled slightly as he saw her baulk, realizing he had hit the nail on the head.

"He's been through a lot," Natalie stammered.

"So have we, especially you, Nat." Michael's arm slid around Natalie's shoulders.

"It doesn't matter. He doesn't mean it. I know he doesn't mean it. He said he loved me. John said he loved me, and you know what a big deal that is for him. He said he came back for me. It's ok, really it's ok."

"No, really it's not," Michael's words pulled Natalie's eyes up to his face. "Yeah nearly dying got my brother to fess up to some stuff he should have told you a long time ago, but that doesn't give him an excuse or a free pass to say whatever the hell he wants now. Yeah he loves you, he really does love you, and you know that he doesn't mean what he's saying but it doesn't make it any easier to hear."

"He's hurting Michael, that's all. He's hurting and he's angry about Spencer. He's just lashing out."

"And you're hurting too. I can see it in your eyes, Natalie. Having to postpone your engagement, watching John in pain, having to tell him the truth about Spencer, it hurts you just as much as it hurts him. I just wish he wasn't so damn blind to it!"

Natalie gave Michael a half-smile. "He has been a bit of an ass."

"Just a tiny bit," Michael winked. "If anyone can put him in his place it's you. Next time he starts up let him have it ok?"

"Maybe," she mumbled.

"No maybes. You give it to him, right square in that ugly mug of his." Michael mimicked punching Natalie in the jaw. "Pow! Right in the kisser."

Natalie laughed.

"And I'll tell you what, tonight I'll look into finding you a descent place to sleep and something to help you get there, ok?"

"Thanks," Natalie nodded, leaning into Michael's arm and hugging him back.

"Now let's go check on Mr. Grumpy."

-----

_**Buzzzzzz.**_

The rumble of Natalie's cell phone on vibrate mode made her jump as she was preparing to go in to see John.

"It's Mom, I should take this," she whispered over the receiver to Michael. "You go in first. I'll be in shortly."

"Ok," Michael mouthed back giving her the thumbs up sign as he opened the doors to John's room.

"Hi Mom. No it's not a bad ti…" Michael slid the door shut behind him, locking out Natalie's voice.

"Hey Johnny, how you feeling?" Michael pulled up a chair beside John's bed. Looking at his brother he could see the improvement in the scar tissue along the right side of his face and John's hands were no longer bandaged, the skin smooth and pink.

"Hey Mike," John croaked back still a little groggy from the anesthesia.

"Your hands are lookin' good, brother," Michael carefully turned them over in his gloved hands. "Looks like those skin grafts are completely healed."

"Good," John grumbled pushing himself higher up on the bed. "That means I can get the hell out of her soon."

"When the doctors give you the ok, Johnny." Michael helped John get repositioned and comfortable. "Don't push it. You've pushed it far enough already."

"Obviously not," John winced, "Or I'd be out of here already. Has Natalie made any progress with the doctors?"

"Natalie's got no more pull around her than I do or you do," Michael replied glancing back through the doors at Natalie in the waiting room outside still on the phone.

"Look Mike, don't start with me again ok? I feel fine," John shifted his weight and winced but shook it off. "I need to get back in there. I need for this to be finished."

"And we need you in one piece," Michael shot back. "Look I get it, we all get it. You need out."

"Then why the hell does it feel like you two keep fighting me at every turn!" John roared.

"Because someone has to! Someone has to keep your best interest in mind, because god knows you aren't!" Michael challenged back.

"You've been talking with Natalie, haven't you?" John demanded. "Damn it, she told me she was going to let it be. She was going to back off and let me do this my way…"

"You know what Johnny, this has nothing to do with Natalie, alright! I mean look at you, look what you're doing to yourself here. Your blood pressure is through the roof. You've had seven surgeries in three days. You're not giving you body a chance to heal. You can delude yourself all you want, brother, but your body can take only so much."

"Save it Mike," John grumbled.

"See there it is right there," Michael threw up his hands.

"Oh don't give me that BS! You have no idea what it's like sitting here like this!"

"Sitting there like that? You mean sitting there alive, John, is that it? Sitting here biting my head off, biting Natalie's head off. No, John, I don't suppose I know quite what that feels like, but I'll tell you one thing, you have no idea what it was like for us when we thought you were dead. That pain, that emptiness, even now Johnny, if I hadn't had Marcie…I don't know. And every time you go in for another surgery we're left sitting here holding our breath, praying that we'll get one more opportunity for you to scream and yell at us. One more chance at you to challenge how we feel about you, about our motives because you can't let go and let other people take care of things!"

"You think I don't want to? But Spencer is out there and if he gets away with what he did…"

"Yeah I know, I get it, but John Bo and Antonio are on it. You have to trust people on this one because the way you're going, brother, that second chance you earned, you're going to lose it."

"For god sakes Mike, you're a doctor. They're not going to let me die in there…"

"I'm not talking about the surgeries," Michael interrupted his eyes going back to Natalie in the waiting room.

"Natalie understands."

"Yeah she does," Michael returned his gaze to his brother. "She's trying harder than anyone to understand and give you what you want but don't you see how badly she's hurting. John you told her you love her and that's a great step but in the same breath you're challenging her feelings for you? How could you even go there? You have no idea how broken she was when she thought she lost you, and she was all alone, John. I don't know how she got through it. I honestly don't. And every time they take you in I can see the fear in her eyes, the fear of having to relive your death over again. That girl out there loves you more than you deserve and you're using her as a verbal punching bag!"

John just sat quietly letting Michael say his piece.

"I'm not saying don't be angry, John, and god knows you're going to push your way out of here as fast as you can but you promised that girl you'd changed. You were going so far as to ask her to marry you. All I'm asking is you remember that. Remember how much it's killing her to sit here unable to do anything for you, to see you in all this pain, and that all she's worried about is you and your well being. So cut her a little slack, ok?"

"Are you finished?" John's voice wasn't angry any more but Michael could still detect an underlining annoyance.

"Floor's all yours," Michael smiled, sitting back in his chair and crossing his arms.

"Hey what's going on in here?" Natalie's voice interrupted as she stepped into the room. "I thought I heard yelling. Is everything ok?"

"Yeah, everything's fine," Michael pushed himself up to his feet so Natalie could sit down. "I should probably be going. I have to pick Tommy up from Lindsay's."

"Give Tommy a hug for me," Natalie smiled as Michael stooped down to give her a hug.

"Will do," Michael smiled back at her. "And Johnny, think about what I said ok? It's good to see you doing better."

"Yeah, see yah, Mike," John replied evenly as Michael left the room.

"So is everything really ok?" Natalie pressed tentatively her eyes moving over the improvement in the scarring on John's face.

"Yeah," he nodded. "So who was on the phone?"

"Oh, it was just Mom. She was wondering how you were doing and wanted to let me know she talked with Kelly and Kevin in London. They're finally all settled in and Zane's doing great. They sound really happy."

"Good," John replied. He shifted his weight and winced slightly.

"You ok? Do you need more morphine?" Natalie was on her feet leaning towards him.

"No, no, it's passed. I'm fine," John replied.

"John, maybe you should hold off on the next graft…" Natalie began.

"We've been over this," John interrupted.

"I know," she replied meekly, "It's just…look, I know you want me behind you on this but John I'm scared." Nervously she bit her lower lip waiting for the tirade that seemed to follow every time she tried to dissuade him.

John took a deep breath and let it out slowly, before slipping his hand in Natalie's gloved one. "I know," he replied gently, "and I'm sorry I'm putting you through all this but I have to do this."

She nodded silently, dropping her eyes to their hands. "I know. I know. You need to get out of here so you can make sure Spencer gets what he deserves. I understand."

"No," he replied, causing her eyes to meet his again. "Of course I want justice for Truman, but that's not why I need to get out of here."

"If that's not the reason, John, then please don't push it! Please don't…" but he put up a hand stopping her.

"I need to get out of here for you."

"For me?" Natalie's brows furrowed. "John, I don't…"

"So we can move on." He squeezed her hand tightly and was relieved to see a wave of exhaustion wash over her face along with a smile.

"I just want you to get better," she replied soft. "That's all I want."

"I know," he nodded. "I know but look at you. You're exhausted. You're here all the time. What about work? What about your forensics degree?"

"I'm fine, John, and that other stuff, nothing else matters but you."

"That's just it, Natalie. I know you went through a lot when you thought I was a dead. I can only imagine what that was like for you, but you can't keep this up. You can't keep being afraid that I'm going to leave you again like that."

"I don't know how," she whispered weakly, a tear sliding down her cheek.

"Trust me," he replied. "Trust me with all of this." 

"I want to," she leaned closer to him. "I just want this all to be over."

"Soon," he squeezed her hand again. "But can you trust me on this?"

"Yeah," she nodded. "Yeah I can."

"Good," he smiled. "You can start by taking one of those gloves off."

"What?" Natalie baulked. "I can't do that. You're still to vulnerable to infection."

"Trust me," he replied with a sly grin. "Take one glove off and go wash your hands in the sink if you like, but if I still can't kiss you than I at least I want to be able to touch you."

Natalie blushed ever so slightly but did as John ask, slipping the bare skin of her hand into his.

John closed his eyes and let out a heavy sigh, a smile painted across his face. Gently he rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand. "One step closer," he whispered.

"I can do one better," Natalie grinned, and John opened one eyes giving her a quizzical look.

Gently she lifted John's hand in her gloved one until he held it straight up in front of her, palm facing her. Then slowly she pressed the palm of her hand flat against his.

"For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch, and palm to palm is holy palmer's kiss." She smiled back at the curious look he was giving her with a mischievous grin. "William Shakespeare. 'Romeo and Juliet'."

"I didn't know you were a Shakespeare fan?"

Natalie nodded. "I've read a play or two or nineteen, but every sixteen year old girl knows at least one line or two from 'Romeo and Juliet'. It's a right of passage, a biological imperative." She winked at him, before turning her attention to their hands as she slowly bent her fingers so they laced through John's. "What girl hasn't dreamt of true love?"

He watched her in silence for a moment, her face soft, her eyes luminous with so many words, so many emotions unvoiced. A large part of him wanted to sit forward and draw her against him; to promise her they could be like that forever but he couldn't so instead he decided to go for a laugh.

"What other biological imperatives have you been keeping from me?" He grinned.

Natalie leaned forward as if she was going to kiss him, but dropped her head to the side of the pillow beside him, her lips ghosting over his face. "More than you can imagine," she whispered close to his ear.

"Well if that's no incentive to get the hell out of here, I don't know what is," John chuckled as Natalie sat back in her chair.

"Want me to let you get some sleep?" Natalie asked, stifling a yawn of her own.

"Only if you will too," John replied his eyes heavy lidded.

"Deal," Natalie smiled, and rising she pulled out the fold-away cot one of the nurses had brought in for her to use a few days earlier. Unfolding it Natalie dragged it along side John's bed and crawled on, her right hand still holding his. "I love you," she whispered, her voice heavy with sleep as the exhaustion of the last few weeks poured over her.

"I love you too," John replied with a yawn.

Michael was right. He could be as angry and determined as he wanted to be if but if he wasn't careful he could make all the same mistakes over again and end up losing out on the one think he really needed. Rolling slightly to his right, John looked down on Natalie sleeping beside him.

"I promise you, this time it will be different," he whispered, his eyes moving down to their entwined fingers. "This pilgrim can become a saint too. You'll see."

_The End._

--------

© 2006

Ok well that's it… I hope you enjoyed it. Remember, all feedback is welcome of course! It's the only way I'll get any better so feel free to drop me a comment at divine. (Just be sure to say something about "fanfic" in the subject so I don't mistake it for spam! )


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